


Please Take Good Care Of Me

by starrylitme



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Caretaking, Complicated Relationships, Despair Era (Dangan Ronpa), Established Relationship, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, Strangulation, Trauma, Ultimate Despair (Dangan Ronpa)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:55:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27149734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: After getting attacked, Komaeda's vocal chords are damaged. Kamukura takes care of him.
Relationships: Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 12
Kudos: 188





	Please Take Good Care Of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bad Things Happen Bingo with the prompt "damaged vocal chords". Trying to get back into the groove of writing. Having a bit of a tough time.
> 
> I have a kitten now. Her name is Ellie. She scratched me recently and it itches like crazy.

When Owari turned to him with a drooling grin and striking bloodlust in his glare, he knew he was faced with a bout of bad luck. He wasn’t going to die, of course, but to say he hadn’t been a little afraid when she tackled him to the ground... Well, it had been difficult to think when her hands wrapped around his throat and squeezed. Constricted, like a snake around its prey. He even flailed and struggled, vision burning and blurring as Owari laughed and laughed and laughed.

He remembers what it had been like in the wreckage of the plane. How it had hurt even to breathe, how he felt his skin aflame even though he hadn’t been charred like several less fortunate victims. How he had still been sobbing when pulled into the paramedics.

Kamukura Izuru separated them, flinging Owari back as if she were nothing. And he couldn’t help but sob as Kamukura gathered him into that strong embrace and carried him away. It hadn’t been with euphoria that he cried. He really, really had been afraid, and between gasping for breaths with broken whimpers and whines, he begged for his parents to help him.

He had passed out soon after.

* * *

“The bruises are severe,” Kamukura drones, rubbing at his throat with ointment. Despite the gentleness of his caretaking, his expression remains ever cold and inhuman. “You cannot speak. There is no point in denying it.”

“I,” Komaeda croaked. He winced, curling in on himself. He settled for shaking his head.

“You tried to scream and that further strained your vocal chords,” Kamukura explained drearily. “However, your Ultimate Luck remains. You will recover in ten days with treatment.” His head tilts, but his face doesn’t change. “Fortunate, but predictable. How boring.”

_“Sorry,”_ he mouthed meekly. His cheeks felt warm. A warmth completely unlike the scorching agony of before. He manages a smile, clapping his hands in delight. An expression of adoration and gratitude. One that Kamukura regards coldly.

_He’s disappointed. Owari-san must be disappointed as well. Aah, she would still consider getting me to shut up a victory. The former Class 77-B will celebrate tonight. How distasteful. Kamukura-kun, however..._

He runs his hand along the thickness of Kamukura’s bicep. He takes in a shuddering breath, gazing up at the other with a watery gaze. Kamukura stares back. Still cold.

“Please take good care of me,” Komaeda whispers hoarsely, ducking his head submissively.

“Avoid speaking for now,” is Kamukura’s response. If Komaeda didn’t know any better, he might mistake that dull tone for snappish. “Do not further strain yourself.”

There’s nothing to do but nod helplessly. What else was there to expect?

* * *

Not much time passes, however, before the silence gets to him. It’s not Kamukura’s fault, of course. Kamukura Izuru was the kind of person who only vocalized when necessary, which was obviously understandable. He wasn’t wasteful, least of all with words. Not like others. Especially not like Komaeda himself.

Komaeda, who hates loud places, but can’t exactly say he finds silence relaxing. He keeps itching to wrap his own fingers around his throat. To crush what Owari couldn’t finish due to Kamukura Izuru’s interference. He still can’t speak, not really. Rather than voice, the words come out in nothing more than hideous rasps.

He only attempts when Kamukura Izuru is not in vicinity, but he’s not so foolish as to think Kamukura doesn’t know about this. Kamukura knew everything, even if he didn’t do much of anything.

_He still saved me. Because we both share Ultimate Luck._

He listens now to Kamukura preparing a meal in the kitchen. He wonders where the ingredients came from? Grown? Stolen? Given by Hanamura? The last one makes his nose wrinkle in disgust, especially when he thought about the licentious remarks the so-called chef was prone to.

_Even if it’s Hanamura-kun’s character, to look at Kamukura-kun like that..._

He halts his thoughts when Kamukura brings him his food. He gets flustered and has half a mind to blame Hanamura for it—except he knows it’s his own wickedness that’s the problem.

_You mustn’t look at him like that. It’s more than just indecent._

He does offer a gracious smile all the same, eyes watering up preemptively as he took in the meal. It was just daikon, shredded into a lukewarm soup. Something simple and easy on the throat. Such consideration—as expected of an Ultimate Caretaker.

_Although why Kamukura-kun cares is anyone’s guess._

Kamukura watches him as he eats. Watches him as he snuffles from the wonderous taste and blows his nose. Watches as he idly rubs his throat and sips more of the soup. Ever the intense and powerful, with a gaze that any man could lose himself in.

Komaeda throws the bowl at him, and Kamukura is gone in an instant. He tries to scream, but what comes out is like static.

Kamukura is holding him down. His stare is the same as before, and then it blurs all together.

_Aha. I’m crying._

He chokes on a sob, twisting so that he could turn away from Kamukura’s cold stare. Pitiful gasps clawed their way out of his throat.

“K... K... Ka...mu...” His voice is gone. What remained was wretched static. “H... Hic...”

“I suppose,” Kamukura murmured, so softly that Komaeda thought he imagined it at first. “I should have expected this outcome.”

“S... S... So...rr...”

“Your apology is accepted.” Kamukura gets off him, but he remains laying there. “An emotional outburst was not surprising.”

_Was it boring, then?_ He covers his face with his arms. He’s aware that he’s still trembling. Kamukura’s still staring. _I wish I could scream._

“I see,” Kamukura droned. “So even you get frustrated like this.”

_Even me? What are you even **saying**?_

“I am saying that you are human, despite what is often claimed.”

With his limited understanding, Komaeda Nagito couldn’t begin to comprehend the words. His mouth shuts, his eyes darting all over. He flinches when Kamukura leans down and kisses his neck.

“It will hinder your recovery,” he murmurs, and his hand has already begun creeping up under Komaeda’s shirt. “But you need not let you lack of a voice keep you from expressing yourself, Komaeda Nagito.”

_I made a mess of things._

He can’t help but snicker, hysterical. Kamukura peppers his heaving throat with more soft pecks.

_I’ve made a huge mess._


End file.
